


Denim Sale

by writingfics_giffingthings



Series: Misc. Destiel: Drabbles, Babbles & Bastards [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Castiel and Dean Winchester Go Shopping, Curtain fic in the front, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Sex, Noisy Castiel, One Shot, Semi-Public Sex, pwp in the back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 03:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15258747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfics_giffingthings/pseuds/writingfics_giffingthings
Summary: Dean and Cas exchange blowies in a fitting room





	Denim Sale

Dean fiddled with his wedding band as they waited in the long line of cars pulling into the outlet mall, spinning it around his ring finger with his thumb. They'd hit a dead end on their case that morning, but there were still bodies piling up. Sammy was working on finding new leads, and he'd seemed a little moody about it, so Dean had used the excuse to sneak out of the bunker with Cas.

Free for the afternoon with bodies and monsters mostly out of mind, Dean thought the idea of going shopping, almost like a normal couple, was too good to pass up. They seriously needed a break.

Dean glanced over at Cas in the passenger seat. He was staring silently out the window. Hopefully he'd perk up once they were out of this traffic.

“DENIM SALE, TODAY ONLY” the window advertisement proclaimed in neon letters. Dean needed some new jeans, so he pulled the Impala into an open spot, and they walked inside.

They had to nudge and pardon their way through the crowded aisles, littered with discarded pairs of jeans and half-buttoned shirts. Dean found a couple of pairs that looked promising, as well as one in Cas’s size. He could tell the chaos and all the people were making Cas uneasy, so he grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the aisle toward the fitting rooms.

“What about trying these on?” Dean asked, holding up the faded blue pair of bootcut jeans he'd found. Cas shot him an irritated look.

Cas never, ever wore jeans. Dean could only try to guess at why that was. Those thighs, that butt, were begging to be hugged.

“Dean, you know I don't-” Cas tried to argue, but Dean cut him off, brushing his fingertips gently down Cas's hip and leaning in with a smile.

“C'mon, Cas. Try em on. For me, please?” Cas rolled his eyes, but after a loud sigh he nodded his consent.

“Fine.” Dean planted a kiss on Cas's jaw and glanced at the overwhelmed fitting room attendant. She didn't seem to notice them at all. There was an open door down the brightly lit gray corridor, so he pulled Cas into the little room without asking, and shut the door behind them.

Happily, even after all these years, Cas was almost completely unaware of, or maybe just unbothered by, social norms. Either way, he typically didn't seem worried about going along with Dean's hijinks du jour. Today was no exception; Cas said nothing about the shared dressing room. He turned toward the mirror and removed his jacket, hanging it by the collar on a hook without much fanfare.

Dean tossed him the pair of jeans and quickly tried his own items on. They both worked okay, he decided, using the mirror opposite Cas, and the prices were good. He yanked up the pants he'd worn in, hopping to get them past his heels, when he noticed Cas struggling. It seemed like he was having trouble with the zipper.

“Is it stuck, Cas?” Dean asked him, but he stopped when he noticed the look of frustration in Cas’s reflection.

“These pants will not close properly,” Cas fumed. Dean finished buttoning his slacks and slid up the zipper.

“Hey,” Dean said carefully, wrapping his arms around Cas from behind and perching his chin on Cas's left shoulder. “It's no worries. I'll grab you another size to try.” Cas huffed.

“I don't _want_ another size. I want this pair to fit,” Cas said, still fiddling with the closure.

“Cas, what's wrong? You've been clothes shopping with me before. That's why people try before they buy, y'know?”

“Well we’ve never been shopping for these infernal things together. I've made sure of it. They never fit.” Dean leaned in and kissed the side of Cas's neck gently. He knew that it wasn't helpful to argue with Cas when a new issue with existing in a human body came up. The frustration Cas seemed to feel about these things always escalated disagreements into all out fights.

“They might not zip but they make your ass look amazing,” he told Cas in a low voice.

Cas managed an exasperated smile, finally dropping his hands away from the zipper and to his sides. Dean wrapped his arms more tightly around Cas's waist and pressed another soft kiss onto his skin.

“Not kidding. You look so good in those tight jeans,” Dean growled into Cas's neck. Cas let his head drop back onto Dean's shoulder. In the mirror, Dean could see his eyes drift shut.

“Makes me wanna take em off of you, anyway,” he whispered, “so who cares if they zip.” He flattened one hand against Cas's chest and dragged it down to the waist of the jeans, working two fingers underneath the waistband of Cas's boxer briefs.

In their reflection, the snug jeans gave Dean a great view of the effect he was having on Cas. He peeled the jeans down to Cas's thighs and slid his hand down, caressing the familiar heat he loved to touch. Cas sucked in a sharp breath.

“Won't people be able to hear us?” Cas asked without opening his eyes to look at Dean. His hands wandered back over Dean's hips.

“That depends, baby, can you keep your voice down?” Dean teased. He was stroking Cas slow now, undoing the buttons on Cas's dress shirt one by one.

“I can try,” Cas promised breathily.

Dean smiled and leaned in, and Cas craned his neck, meeting his advance. As they kissed, Dean paused the slow work he'd been making of stroking Cas and turned him around, pressing his back against the mirror. He dragged Cas's undershirt up, taking a nipple in his mouth and rolling his tongue against it the way he knew Cas liked. He felt Cas's fingers weave into his hair and heard his breathing halt and stutter.

When Dean looked up he found Cas gazing down at him, face and neck flushed, lips just parted.

“You want me to take em off, babe?” he asked cheekily, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of Cas’s underwear. He watched Cas nod, his eyes widening at the touch.

“Want my mouth around you?” Jaw muscles flexed as Cas snapped his mouth shut, and his eyes pleaded with Dean to do it. Dean nuzzled into the crook of Cas's neck, tugging the boxer briefs further down.

“Tell me what you want, Cas.”

A fierce blush tinted Cas's cheeks, as though they'd been pinched, and he exhaled slowly, biting his lower lip. Dean smirked, gliding his hands back and down over his husband's bare ass.

“You know what I want, Dean.”

“Oh, no no no,” Dean purred. “C'mon. I want you to tell me.” He squeezed Cas's glutes, pulling his hips forward. They were both swollen and hot, grinding against one another now as well as they could manage standing chest to chest. He watched Cas's eyes fall shut again, could almost see the words on the tip of his tongue. Dean slid the dress shirt off Cas's shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He loved dragging these filthy requests out of Cas, watching him wrestle with them till he couldn't help himself. “Tell me,” Dean whispered again.

“Fuck, Dean,” Cas finally whimpered, “I want your mouth around me.”

Dean felt those words like a pulse of heat in his body.

“Yeah, baby,” he urged, dropping to his knees and releasing Cas from his clothing. Cas bobbed free, and Dean jerked the boxer briefs and snug jeans carelessly down his muscular thighs, then to his ankles. He helped Cas step out of them and let a warm breath caress the swollen, dew-tipped head in front of him. “Then what?”

Cas was peeling his undershirt off, and Dean could see his breaths were coming shallow and quick. He was excited, probably as anxious as Dean was about the relatively public venue, but he'd already brought his fingertips to his nipples to tease them.

“Want you to swallow me whole, Dean.” Cas’s breath caught in his throat after this admission, but he continued with more certainty, his voice gravelly and low. “Need to thrust my cock down your sweet throat. Need you to let me cum that way-” he tried to finish, but Dean couldn't wait any longer and slid his mouth over Cas, lips tight enough to tear a soft moan out of him, interrupting his demands. He met Cas's immediate shallow thrusts with a soft bobbing motion, letting himself relax as the head of Cas's cock bumped against the back of his throat. The sharp, salt taste on his tongue told him Cas was not far off. The fingers tangled in his hair said Cas was already lost to the outside world. One or two slips into the tightness of Dean's throat was going to draw out those hot little uh-uh-uh moans. A touch here, a fingertip pressed there, and he'd be gone for sure.

Dean was going crazy watching Cas fall apart. He moved a hand from Cas’s hip to undo his own pants and stroke some of this tension away. He let a quiet groan reverberate around Cas, who groaned in turn and tried to tug Dean's head down harder. He had to release Cas for a second.

“Babe, babe,” Cas looked down with wildness in his eyes. “Remember, try to be quiet.” Cas’s brows just furrowed as he thrust into nothing.

“Fuck, Cas, you are so hot right now, aren't you baby,” Dean growled. He put his mouth back on Cas and sped up his own stroking and tugging. Cas's hands slid down to the back of Dean's head and he began really thrusting. Dean lost focus as Cas fucked his throat, and he roughly fucked his own hand, both men moving with less and less control.

The noises started out soft, Cas's mewling desperate but not loud. Dean took his cue and moved his free hand to cup Cas’s scrotum. When the tip of his middle finger pressed firmly into the fleshy area just behind that, he felt Cas momentarily buckle beneath his own weight. As he regained his balance, Dean sunk all the way down onto his cock, nudging forward and massaging with his finger as he swallowed around Cas. The gasping moans cut off abruptly and Cas braced himself, hands splayed against the mirror behind his hips. Dean allowed himself to lean against Cas's thighs. His hand moved wildly over his own cock. He was close, the tingling heat deep inside warned.

Cas let out a strangled groan and hunched forward. He was out of his mind now, pumping hard and fast, and Dean couldn't do anything to quiet him. So, so close. Dean let go of himself and reached up to slide three musky, precum-slick fingers into his loud lover's mouth before the last moment. Cas whined as he slid his tongue against Dean's digits. He slipped the fingers of his other hand back to brush over the tight rim of Cas's hole. Cas growled, his thrusting frenzied and stuttering.

“Fffuuck,” Cas gasped around Dean's fingers, the first heavy shots of semen escaping, and the ring of muscle he was still working contracted with each spurt of Cas's orgasm.

Dean swallowed again and again as Cas came buried in his throat, till eventually he quieted, and rolled his head away, Dean's fingers slipping from his lips. Cas lowered himself to the floor and pressed his lips to Dean's, his heart still beating so hard Dean could feel it against his chest.

Cas pushed Dean down to the rough carpet, toppling him onto his back, and stared into Dean’s eyes as he spit into his palm. It made an obscene, slick, wet sound as it wrapped around Dean's leaking cock and started to stroke. He didn't bother with Dean's clothes, didn't break eye contact at all. Dean clenched his jaw.

“Not gonna take much,” he managed, lifting his head to watch as Cas knelt in, licking the ridge on underside of Dean's sensitive head. Already his breaths were coming faster. Cas wrapped his mouth around Dean, still stroking slowly, steadily, still staring hotly up at Dean.

Dean's legs shook as his hips tilted upward. Cas's strokes sped, his tongue unrelenting as Dean's heart raced. His eyes drifted shut as, finally, he moved his hand away and slipped his lips down the full length of Dean's shaft. That heat around him, that tongue stiff against him as it slid was all he could take. He held his breath, grimacing as that first fleeting wave shuddered through him, and then he was gone too.

When he opened his eyes, Cas was wiping his thumb over the corner of his lips, the subtlest smirk on his face.

“We better get out of here,” he said with a raised brow.

Dean couldn't help laughing. He got up and tried to straighten himself out in the mirror as Cas pulled his own clothes back on, but he couldn't keep the stupid smile off his face.

“Damn, Cas. That was not smart.” Cas shot him a conspiratorial glance as he buttoned the last buttons on his shirt.

“Not especially,” he agreed, then paused. “But hotter than hell.” They both grinned.

They left the jeans all neatly folded in the dressing room that day, and calmly ignored the indignant looks from the people waiting outside when they left.

They never really brought it up again, but whenever Dean wanted to go jeans shopping after that, Cas would just chuckle, and swat Dean's shoulder, and go along.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Goodlookingsass! For the beta, for the spell check *embarrassed blushing* 
> 
> Everyone else, thanks so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear from you. <3


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